Vain (The Seven Deadly 1)

“No, no, forget everything I just said.” He hurriedly led us to our private table and whipped me toward him. “Dance with me.”

I threw my small bag in the booth in answer, knowing security in VIP would cover it since Spence handed the guy a hundred and I let him pull me toward the floor. I took the lead and wound my way through the crowd with Spencer just behind me and found a spot two people could fit comfortably. Darkness surrounded us other than the dancing lights that touched the top of the crowd but bounced off just as quickly.

The first song was slow and sexy. Spencer laid his hands on me and I let him. They perused my body in appreciation as I used him. We swayed with the erotic tempo and his mouth found mine, answering my earlier question. The warm feel of his tongue soothed away any raw feeling of moral contradiction that had taken residence so obnoxiously in my heart. I groaned in response and his arms found my rib cage, encircling me tightly before giving me a slight squeeze and lifting me slightly from the floor.

I kissed Spencer like my life depended on it. I hoped every exhale into his mouth shed a little of my newly found struggles.

“Hold me tighter,” I whispered against his teeth. He clutched me closer, yet not tight enough. “More,” I demanded.

Spencer drew me firmer against him and I felt every ridge of his body. “Is that close enough?” he laughed into my throat.

“Perfect,” I told him. I didn’t feel as alone anymore.

Spencer kissed me again but softer, as if he knew I needed that. He read my body well, giving when I drew back, drawing back when I gave. All I could think was he was going to make some girl very happy one day. He ran his hands through my long curls, gripping my waist just above the hip before enfolding me against him once again.

And just as suddenly, the very heated kiss turned lighter, tapering off into a desperate embrace. I felt it in that moment as did he. It was glaringly obvious to us standing there in the middle of the crowded dance floor. I needed to be needed by him and he needed to be needed by me. We clung to one another, not sure exactly what it was we required from one another but acknowledging it all the same.

When the song ended and a more upbeat tune replaced it, Spencer pulled away.

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he told me.

We went back to my house but parked his car in the employee lot just in case my father was on the lookout, though I doubt he was. My room had been serviced since I’d left it last so I tossed the covers back and tumbled inside, whipping my clothes off under the covers. Spencer tossed his jeans on the chair in the corner along with his shirt, tucking himself with me in only his boxers.

We held each other the entire night, no words spoken but the still, silent night uttered so much.

“Miss Price?” A voice woke me. “Miss Price?” the voice asked louder.

My eyes barely opened and I took in my position, sprawled over a softly snoring Spencer. Brilliant.

I turned over and peered into the eyes of Dr. Ford and his nurse Cassandra. Just splendid, I thought. He was going to report this little incident to my father. I could see it in his face.

Cassandra was too distracted by the exposed chest of Spencer to give me her usual eye roll.

“Good morning, Dr. Ford.”

“Afternoon,” he corrected me.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was indeed three in the afternoon.

“You’re right on time,” I sarcastically spat at him.

“Miss Price,” he began, ignoring me, “would you prefer it if Cassandra and I left the room for you to dress?”

“Not necessary,” I told him.

Spencer woke and stretched beside me, causing Cassandra’s eyes to bulge from her round face.

“Don’t most of these go in the posterior region anyway?” I teased, making Dr. Ford close his eyes in disapproval. Spencer tried to hide his laugh behind a closed fist, but it wasn’t fooling anyone.

“I’ll just use your shower, Soph.” Spencer slid from beneath the covers and strode across the floor in his boxers without any sense of shame. Winking, in fact, toward Cassandra and causing her to choke on nothing.

“All the same, Miss Price, I’d prefer you in at least a robe.”

“As you wish, Dr. Ford.”

Cassandra grabbed the silk number that hung at the end of my door and brought it to me. Dr. Ford turned his head and I stood, sinking my arms through the sleeves of the robe Cassandra held out for me.

“Yummy, isn’t he?” I whispered low, teasing Cassandra.